A Hidden Promise

Natalie Sleeth wrote a beautiful hymn in 1986, words which have inspired me many times, and prompted the photo you see here.

In the bulb there is a flower,
In the seed, an apple tree; 
In cocoons a hidden promise; 
Butterflies will soon be free!
In the snow and cold of winter 
There’s a spring that waits to be,
Unrevealed until it’s season,
Something God alone can see.

There’s a song in every silence,
Seeking word and melody;
There’s a dawn in every darkness,
Bringing hope to you and me.
From the past will come the future; 
what it holds, a mystery,
Unrevealed until it’s season, 
something God alone can see.

In our end is our beginning; in our time, infinity;
In our doubt there is believing; in our life, eternity.
In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory, 
Unrevealed until it’s season, something God alone can see.

An Extraordinary Heart

It came to me
Through someone else
An extraordinary heart
In the hands of my husband,
My rock,
My best friend
Not something I created
But present in an ancient stone
A shape of a heart
I capture it, try to edit it,
But nothing looks right.
How can I perfect what is already prefect?

Random Thoughts – On Welcoming Our Grandson

The longest drive (in my mind)
Text messages from my daughter
Phone calls along the way
(Embracing digital communication!)
Arriving in time
My daughter crying when she sees me
Me crying with her, tears of joy
The Grandparents Paparazzi
Our grandson, seen for the first time
Lots of loving arms
The sound of a newborn baby’s cry
Little fingers and toes
Garrett’s eyes
A new family
The look of being overwhelmed
Home, at the new little family’s home
Being Present
Soaking it all in
Fear when things don’t go as they should
Experiencing son-in-law and seeing him as husband,
father, protector, provider
My son-in-law walking in the door, seeing the dog
Being there.
Soup cooked, cookies and biscuits baked
(Grandma doing her own nesting)
Puppy kisses
Sun coming through the window
Baby booties that just don’t stay on
Precious little hands and feet
My daughter and her friend embracing, more tears
Breast pump, microwave sterilizer, bottles
Leave taking
Dreading to leave, to part
But knowing that leaving also means returning
The end of the pregnancy but the beginning of raising a child
The feeling of that baby’s head against my neck
The baby sounds
Tears, tears, tears
You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.
Phenomenal experience
Seeing my son being the Uncle
His wife gently supportive and loving
Driving to our house, so far away
Measuring the hours, the distance
Thinking of them all the time
Finding all the text messages on my phone
Hugging my daughter and letting her cry
Being there to do that
Notes on pieces of paper
My list of what to pack when we get “the call”
The list by my daughter’s bed noting the timing of contractions
Being the grandma

Calling my own parents, the great-grandparents